


Never Too Many Dicks on the Dance Floor

by sneaqui



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Barebacking, Established Relationship, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-31 10:11:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneaqui/pseuds/sneaqui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lazy, hungover morning sex. Established relationship.</p><p>Originally posted <a href="http://inception.dreamwidth.org/31022.html?thread=42286#cmt42286">here</a> at cherrybina's Inception Fandom Rare Ship Fest on the DW Inception comm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Too Many Dicks on the Dance Floor

Due to the relative amount of muscle on their bones, Arthur and Eames burn through booze the same way they burn through food: quickly.

Robert’s all flesh and bone. He has to pace himself on nights when the three of them go out drinking or else things get real ugly real fast. Of course, he’s never been one to back down from a challenge no matter how non-existent. It’s a wonder he’s made it to thirty three years of age.

He doesn’t remember the entirety of last night, just bits and pieces. Arthur and Eames laughing affectionately in his ears, guiding him across wet reflective pavement while he tried to keep his eyes open and his head steady atop his neck. Their arms wrapped around his waist, practically carrying him to their next destination.

He remembers crawling into Arthur’s lap in the corner booth of a whiskey bar. Arthur kissing his temple and rubbing his back while Eames winked at them from across the floor.

Eames was hunched over a length of green felt when he dedicated “this next shot to the two loveliest men this side of the equator.” Robert and Arthur had laughed at him, both of them knowing how much time Eames has spent in the southern hemisphere. Nevertheless, they both cheered when Eames pushed the Q-ball lightly against the side of the eight ball, allowing it to roll slowly into the corner pocket.

The three of them had left not long after that, Robert grabbing Arthur and Eames’ wrists and pulling them out of the bar when a sore loser at the pool table grabbed his dick and made a comment about Robert’s “pretty girl lips”. Robert pulled them so forcefully that the instant they quit their resistance, he nearly face planted into the concrete.

Eames had caught him around the waist just in time and pulled him up, allowing Robert to thread his left leg around Eames’ right, four legs becoming three. Arthur had flagged down a cab, and the next thing Robert remembers is being stripped of his suit. He remembers careful, quick fingers at his throat and gliding down his torso. He remembers a chuckle and a press of plush lips to his backside, over the soft cotton of his briefs.

He remembers being tucked under the sheets and in between a long curve of soft, pale flesh and the strong grip of tanned biceps.

Robert wakes up the next morning with his brain throbbing and his mouth tasting like the bottom of a trash can. The bed dips behind him, and he hears Eames crack his neck and slide off the mattress. Robert turns his head to read the clock on the side table. 10:17 a.m. “Oh, fuck no,” Robert grumbles and turns back to bury his face in Arthur’s neck.

Arthur wraps an arm around his shoulder. “How you feeling?”

“Remorseful. Unclean.” Robert pauses to take stock of his body below the waist. “Surprisingly horny.”

Arthur snickers and pulls Robert closer, angles his body so that their chests are pressed together, their skin warm and slightly sticky beneath the down comforter.

Arthur pushes the thin strands of hair out of Robert’s eyes and kisses him slow and sweet. “You want me to blow you?” He presses his lips to Robert’s eyebrow, the tip of his nose. “Or I could fuck you. Or eat you out until you come.”

Robert would love to do any of these things, all of these things, but he’s not exactly functioning at full capacity. “I’m not gonna be of much use right now,” he warns.

“That’s alright, baby.” Arthur frowns. “Unless you don’t want to-”

“Oh no,” Robert smiles. “Go right ahead. I don’t mind.”

Arthur snickers and presses their foreheads together. “You’re spoilt. You know that?”

Robert sighs and combs a hand through Arthur’s curls. “I am, aren’t I?” A hint of sadness in his voice.

“Hey. Don’t do that.” Arthur gives him a peck him on the lips. “It’s your turn this month. It’s the end of the fiscal year, and you’ve got The Board to answer to. In a couple months, when Eames and I come home with ten pound bags under our eyes, you’ll get to take care of us.”

Robert nods. “Fair is fair.” He lets out a deep breath and allows himself to relax into the mattress.

Arthur moves down Robert’s chest, sighing contentedly as he takes one of Robert’s nipples into his mouth and circles the pebbled areola with his tongue. Robert groans and buries his fingers in Arthur’s hair as he presses lingering, wet kisses to Robert’s sternum, his stomach, his belly button. His mouth is hovering over the trail of dark hair that leads to his cock when he pulls his head up to yell, “Eames!”

Eames saunters out of the bathroom, brushing his teeth and scratching his belly. He grins when he sees them and says around a mouthful of foam, “How can I be of service?”

“Robbie needs some Advil.”

“And some water,” Robert adds, stretching his arms above his head.

Arthur presses a smile into Robert’s belly before dipping down and nuzzling his nose into the thatch of dark hair at the base of his cock. Arthur breathes in deeply and groans, “Fuck. You always smell so good.”

“What exactly do I smell like?” Robert can’t help but be contrary no matter how hungover or aroused he is.

The bed sags under Eames’ wait when he sits on the edge of the mattress at Robert’s side. Eames hands him two orange pills, slides his forearm under Robert's shoulders and props him up so that he doesn’t choke on his glass of water.

Robert gulps down the whole glass and hands it back to Eames, wiping the wet from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Thank- ah!” Robert gasps when Arthur sucks his cock into his mouth, sliding his lips down the shaft and pressing his tongue to the underside when he pulls back up. Robert legs fall open further, his knees nearly touching the mattress, and Arthur reaches up to run his palms over the pale flesh of his inner thighs.

Eames stares down at Robert’s cock sliding in and out of Arthur’s mouth and hums in approval, a deep rumbling in his chest. He reaches down Robert’s body and slides his palm over the crease where his thigh meets his groin before reaching underneath Arthur’s chin to gently grasp Robert’s balls.

Robert groans and presses his head back into the mattress, clutching the top sheet with one hand and Eames’ hip with the other. He frowns when his hand touches fabric instead of flesh, and he opens his eyes to see that Eames has put on underwear.

Robert grumbles, “Eames, why are you wearing clothes?” He pulls the elastic of Eames’ briefs down and tucks it behind balls so that he can get a hand on Eames’ cock, already fully hard and standing up flush with his stomach. Eames’ groans and bucks his hips when Robert wraps his fingers around his cock and gently runs his thumb around the opening of his foreskin. Robert's thumb comes away wet with precome, and he brings it to his mouth to taste it. He looks up as he does it, and catches Eames staring at him. “Fuck. Robbie.”

Eames bends down to kiss him just as Arthur curls his tongue around one of Robert’s balls and pulls it into his mouth. He sucks gently and hums around it, sending a strong current shooting up Robert’s spine and making his feet arch.

Eames presses his hand Robert’s hipbone to keep him from bucking, and his hands bumps against Arthur’s where its massaging the flesh at the top of Robert’s thigh. Arthur pokes his head up from between Roberts legs and grins. He pushes himself up on his elbows and tilts his head to beckon Eames toward him.

Robert watches, his mouth hanging open dumbly as Arthur and Eames’ lips slide together. The wet underside of Eames’ tongue glistening as he licks Robert’s taste out of Arthur’s mouth. They keep kissing as Arthur slides his thumb down Robert’s perineum to his hole, circling the raised ridge of it with a gentle pressure.

Robert’s breath quickens, and Eames hears it. He tilts his head out of the kiss and looks down to watch the movement of Arthur’s hand. He groans and ducks his head between Robert’s legs to flick his tongue across the puckered ring of flesh.

Robert gasps, “Fuck me,” almost without realizing what he’s saying. “Please.”

Arthur looks up at him from underneath the curls that have fallen into his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Robert nods aggressively. “I want your cock. C’mon.”

Arthur grins and nods toward their bedside table. “Eames.”

Eames fetches the lube from the drawer and tosses it to Arthur who catches it without looking. Robert can’t help but chuckle at the fact that Arthur and Eames exercise the same precision and focus in the bedroom as they do on the job.

Eames lays down next to Robert and catches his laugh with his lips, reaching up to stroke the delicate skin along his jaw.

It’s doesn’t take much to get Robert ready for Arthur’s cock. The most he ever needs is two fingers. Besides, Robert prefers his pleasure to build out of a slight ache.

Arthur sits back on his ankles and pushes in slowly, his fingers digging into the soft skin behind Roberts knees. The slide of Arthur’s bare cock into his body causes a long groan to escape Robert’s lips. He reaches one arm back to grip the headboard and wraps the other around Eames’ shoulders.

Eames runs his knuckles up and down Robert’s ribs, and his eyes dart back and forth between Robert’s face and Arthur’s hips.

Arthur gasps when he bottoms out, and his head hangs down between his shoulders for a moment before he looks up and into Robert’s eyes. He undulates his hips for a few beats before pulling out and sliding back in slowly. He takes his time; Arthur always does. Perfect for a lazy, morning-after fuck. He slides his hands up Robert’s calves, brings his ankle to his mouth to kiss it. He groans, “Fuck. You feel so good baby, always so tight for us.”

Eames reaches down to wrap his hand around Robert’s cock, and Robert stops him. “Not yet,” he breathes. The words pushed out of him by Arthur’s hips. “Not yet.”

Eames groans and leans down the press a trail of sucking kisses down Robert’s throat, his chest. He makes a detour to bite his nipple and his pectoral just above his armpit before running his lips down Robert’s ribcage toward his belly. Once he gets there, he lays his hand on the expanse of skin just below his bellybutton and pushes gently.

At the same time, Arthur cants his hips up, and his cock rubs against Robert’s prostate. “Oh fuck,” Robert cries out, and his back arches. He buries his hands in his hair, clenching at the roots in order to keep himself from touching his cock. He could come just from this, Arthur and Eames fucking and rubbing him in a perfect rhythm.

He forces himself to keep his eyes open and watch them. Arthur’s brow furrowed in concentration, his biceps and his abs clenching as he speeds up his thrusts. Eames gets up on his knees and begins to fist his cock with his free hand. He looks down at Arthur’s cock sliding in and out of Robert’s hole and licks his lips.

Arthur is panting heavily and his eyes are beginning to cloud over. He’s close already. Robert is about ask Eames for his hand when Eames buries his fingers in Arthur’s hair and pulls him in for a kiss. Arthur groans and drops one of Robert’s legs to wrap an arm around Eames’ torso and grab his ass.

The movement changes the angle of Arthur’s thrusts, and Robert yelps when Arthur pulls the back of his thigh against his chest and his cock slides deeper into Robert’s body.

Robert whimpers, “Eames.”

Eames pulls away from Arthur’s mouth and looks down at Robert, his face flushed and his eyelids heavy, his fist flying over his cock. “Robbie,” he breathes.

“Touch me. Eames, please. I need to come.”

Eames growls and bends down to kiss Robert fiercely. He strokes Robert’s cock rapidly, hand wet with his own precome. Robert wraps his arms around Eames’ neck and digs his nails into his shoulders as a spike of heat shoots down his spine and his balls tighten. He thrusts back onto Arthur’s cock and forward into Eames’ fist and wails, “Eames. Fuck. Arthur,” as he comes, spilling all over his chest and Eames’ fingers.

Arthur gasps and falls forward, one palm landing on the mattress beside Robert and the other on Eames back as he thrusts deeply into Robert and comes, his cock pulsing and filling Robert in a warm spill.

Eames trails his fingers through the come on Robert’s stomach and uses it to slick his own cock. Robert places his hand over Eames’ and follows his strokes. He presses small kisses to Eames forehead, his jaw, his lips and swipes his thumb over the head of Eames' cock at random intervals. Eames groans, “Fucking hell,” and thrusts up into his fist one final time. He grunts and sighs as his come mixes with Robert’s on his stomach.

Eames collapses and Arthur follows, their bodies bracketing Robert. They lay there, eyes closed and panting heavily as Robert hums happily and presses kisses to both their lips. He jumps up off the bed and walks to the bathroom to clean himself up and grab a wet towel. “So,” he says over his shoulder, “who’s making breakfast?”

Arthur and Eames groan and say at the same time, “He is.”


End file.
